The Slayer
by Wlfgrrl
Summary: Buffy and Faith by way of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven". Yeah, it has some rhymes, but g'on, ya, why not give it a go? :


**The Slayer **

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing, nyet, zilch, nada, bubkus...you get the idea? The fantabulous Faith and Buffy (no matter how much I wish otherwise) are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui and UPN. "The Raven" is the property of Edgar Allan Poe...or perhaps his descendants, since Edgar is probably beyond caring about such things these days. _

**AN:** _This was answer to a Hallowe'en Challenge: "Use Poe's 'classic tale of forgotten yore', The Raven, in a Buffy tale." This attempt is WAY "off-the-cuff"...a last minute Halloween whim, if you will. I am not now, nor have I ever claimed to be, a "poet" in any way, shape or form. So please take this effort with the proverbial grain of salt. Some of the rhymes are stretching it (to say the least) and I'm not that sure if I got Poe's rhythm/metre down...but I tried! And hey, at least I kept up with the *length* of the original... gotta count for something, right? _

_From Buffy's POV, season 3-ish._

_**~o0o0o0o0o0o~**  
_

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I researched, weak, eyes bleary,  
Over many a dusty and boring volume of best forgotten lore-  
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,  
As if someone not-so-gently rapping, rapping at my bedroom door,  
"'Tis my sister," I muttered, "tapping annoyingly at my door-  
Only Dawn and nothing more."

.

So distinctly do I remember, it was nearly the first of November,  
Hallowe'en, a night that did engender, much clutter strewn upon my floor.  
I'd hoped a costume to quickly fashion, some slinky thing that inspired passion,  
For my love-life was now severely rationed and I mourned my lost amour.  
My vampiric boyfriend, Angel, with whom I'd shared so much ardor,  
Had dumped my ass several weeks before.

.

But I'd found ambition was truly lacking, the thought of male flirtation not really packing  
The allure I'd thought it would, those brief and bustling hours before.  
And so I sat and sought surcease, my thoughts distracted by demonic treatise  
Until this moment of interrupted peace, as I heard that tapping upon yon bedroom door.  
Was it Dawn? My Mother? Or Willow and Tara (Will's paramour)?  
That's it, a friendly visit, and nothing more.

.

I confess, my curiosity was now mightily piquing, and soon I found myself actively seeking,  
An end to what had me nearly freaking: the identity of this All Hallows Eve visitor.  
I arose from my tome-cluttered study-nook, smoothed out my clothes for a more presentable look,  
And after much hesitation I finally took, the steps that propelled me 'cross my untidy floor  
I gathered my courage and the unfamiliar––but seasonably attributed––fear I forbore…  
Then slowly I opened my bedroom door.

.

Timidly peaking into the darkened hall, I noted nothing but a gloomy pall,  
(The mood, surely, resulting as I'd recalled my 'hunk-some'––but way broody––former amour.)  
'Who's there?' queried I, but there came no swift nor speedy reply,  
Just a yawning silence that led me to deny that there'd been truly a tapping upon my door.  
Perhaps 'twas all imagined, as has most certainly happened before?  
A dream, realistic, but nothing more.

.

So back into my bedroom, turning, intent on more archaic learning-  
Tho' I confess I oft felt like burning, those sneeze-inducing books of ancient lore.  
But Giles would be greatly distressed, if my academic frustration I did redress,  
By torching even one meager papyrus, scrawled upon in dusty days of yore.  
And most certainly to do so would incite him to bouts of spectacle-polishing galore,  
Oh so predictable is he, on that habitual score.

.

My faint amusement did not last long, my instincts whispered of something wrong,  
For once again came a tapping, tapping- but no longer at my bedroom door.  
With slowly returning trepidation, I turned and faced its new location-  
The distinctive point of origination: the shuttered window I now stood before.  
This ruled out Mom or Dawn as my most determined Hallowe'en visitor-  
My window, and I, are on the second floor.

.

"Enough of this," I grimly muttered, and bent down to my window, shuttered-  
and barely avoided being head-butted, as a raven-haired beauty toppled me to my floor.  
But with feline grace she regained her feet, offered her hand and our gazes did meet,  
And I experienced a moment of surprising heat, as she lifted me easily from my floor.  
"Not possible," I mentally sighed, upon recognizing my friend and fellow warrior,  
"Our friendship's platonic, nothing more."

.

This leather-clad vision, so beguiling––a sight that begrudgingly had me smiling,  
Turned and wandered slowly toward my bedroom door.  
There she halted and faced me again, her features not bearing her usual grin,  
Simply regarding, not a single word spoken, from this bad-ass perched beside my bedroom door.  
Most curious behavior, a bit unnerving, and differing from all of our encounters before,  
Just leaning, regarding, and nothing more.

.

I admit, in patience I can be sorely lacking, but I found that my brain I was frantically wracking,  
As I sought out the reason for her strangely quiescent and mysterious behavior.  
"Faith, have I perhaps offended? Forgotten a time we had mutually tendered?  
A 'slay-date' or maybe we'd even intended a visit to the Bronze's dance floor?"  
Tho' I doubt I'd forget the latter in this life, to be sure-  
Her dancing provides me with much pleasure.

.

Still she stood there, no word spoken, her eyes darkly glittering but giving no token  
And frankly this now was wiggins-invokin' and leading me to implore:  
"Has some sort of magical spell perhaps befallen? Has Ethan Rayne once more come a-callin'?"  
"Tho," I pausingly amended, "the odds of that are admittedly poor-"  
He'd been thrashed, and I mean a serious ass-whipping he'd bore-  
Thanks to a Band Candy-fueled "Ripper" a short year before.

.

My babble finally broke her stillness, she stepped toward me, exuding sensual-ness,  
A pouty-lipped smile affixed to her features-igniting in me much non-platonic ardor!  
I'd long since desired this raven-tressed vision, but no clue of reciprocal 'want' had been given,  
So my seemingly unrequited affection I'd hidden- a burden I'd long and silently bore.  
Oh racing pulse be still a moment, lest you reveal what I'd alone been yearning to explore.  
She and I... and so much more.

.

Stepping close, my hand she lifted, then kissed the palm and my world view shifted  
Could it be that I'd truly been gifted with this seeming gesture of Sapphic amour?  
A gasp was all I could return, verbiage lost, but my gaze surely burned,  
Into the sparkling, ebon eyes of the woman I so fervently adore.  
And if jest this be, I feared I'd soon fall weeping to the floor-  
A tease so cruel... the end of me for sure.

.

And still no words, passed o'er those lips, to which mine eyes were now affixed-  
Lest I miss even one small utterance in my state of passionate ardor.  
It felt like time had slowed to crawling, and to my mind more fears came calling,  
The eve of All Hallows, I was recalling, a favored of the spectral visitor.  
Was I now the plaything of some such maleficent, phantom creature-?  
She, a fabrication... nothing more?

.

"Please, speak to me of your intention, don't leave me in unknowing tension,  
Be you real or some cruel manifestation?" I heard myself implore.  
"So long have I been left in wanting, a look, a touch- Oh Beauty, haunting,  
Tease me no longer with this confounding and resolutely silent demeanor.  
You see, my heart can't take not knowing for even a single moment more-  
Speak, or depart thru that bedroom door."

.

And so it passed, my heart revealed, what for so long I'd kept concealed-  
'neath fears of affectionate negation, from she, my most secret heart's amour.  
But now her lips did slowly part, perhaps surprised by my exposed heart,  
And a smile so dazzling she did impart as her gaze flickered shyly to the floor.  
Was that a blush I now saw creeping upon her skin so radiant and pure?  
A sign?... my heart now less hesitant to soar!

.

Then to my ears came the glorious sound, of her husky voice bringing joy profound,  
How it thrilled me-–nearly filled me––with a happiness I'd never felt before.  
"How could you doubt my feelings, B? Are you so blind that you could not see,  
That you alone possess the key to my heart's chamber door?"  
This spoken with a fervent and emotional candor-  
Truth denied between us no more.

.

Our lips then met in a searing kiss, expressing the love we could never dismiss,  
Not even from threat of the fiery abyss, delivered by some homophobic-ally motivated boor.  
We were born to be the Chosen Two, our paths preordained, fully destined and True,  
And foolishly we'd thought our due was the absence of eternal amour.  
But now we'd awakened to a future where we'd our lifetimes to explore  
The myriad expressions of Chosen love, free and pure.

.

Drawing back a moment from our fervent embrace, my hand pressed tenderly to the side of her face,  
Brown eyes locked to hazel as I sought to speak once more-  
"I know we've only just spoken our hearts, but I want you to know, I've loved you from the start,  
And tho' it's taken me years to impart, you and you alone are the one I adore.  
I promise always to be true my most cherished amour."  
And so Quoth the Slayer- Evermore!

.

**~End~**


End file.
